To the Sunshine Trail (Trapper Creek Wilderness) 12-1-21
Posted: December 4th, 2021, 9:43 am
This was an attempted exploration some of the “primitive” connector trails in the wilderness to assess their status in the wake of the Big Hollow Fire. The Trapper Creek Trail, as confirmed in the TRs of others, was in good shape, with just a couple of trees down, but the creeks were high. At the Soda Peaks junction creek, I took a high narrow log across (on the return, I simply sloshed across in my boots and warm socks). The Big Slide Trail was to be my return on the aborted lollipop. (Fire maps say it escaped the blaze, so I assume it is navigable.)
The Deer Cutoff mostly escaped the blaze, but the creek above the multi-tiered waterfall was running high and a huge log had crashed down, damming the creek and creating a new pool. I used the log to clamber across as it was blocking the trail anyway. An outlying patch of the fire had burned the slope on the west side of the creek, but soon I was back in mossy woods.
The Sunshine junction looked pristine (I righted the trail sign, whose post had snapped), but not far up the slope I hit the fire zone, here mostly a slow-burning ground fire that had eradicated the understory. There was never much of a bench on the Sunshine, just a scratch of a path through the moss and salal, and with the vegetation gone, the tread was vague or nonexistent. I resorted to picking out Basil Clark badges as I traversed the slope. Things got worse – big trees down, canopy fire, crumbling slopes, loose rocky gullies – and this was even before the Sunshine turns up a steep ridge to meet the Rim Trail. At the pace I was going, and given the time of my start, I knew I wouldn’t make the loop, now essentially a scrambling bushwhack, before darkness. (The fire map has the entire length of the Sunshine, except for the bottom 100 yards or so, in the burn.)
I took the Trapper Creek Trail below the Deer Cutoff on the return, visiting the creek and staring up at the old growth canopy. A large nurse log bridges one of the creeks, and I traipsed across, dodging the baby hemlocks, my traipsing steps skidding on a slick spot and flinging me, at the far end, into a headfirst plunge into the creek, my pack straps tangled around my neck and over my head, my camera dunked in the stream. My hat cushioned the impact of my skull on a (thankfully) flat rock. Reclining in the current, I slowly took stock of the situation, contemplating the possibility of serious injury. Then I clumsily extricated myself and dried off the camera, sloshing the three miles back with a stiff neck, a slowly growing lump on my noggin, and yes, yet another lesson learned (never too old) – log crossings in the wet season are dangerous high wire acts. Resist the urge to traipse! Your feet are probably wet anyway – just wade across the stream (wool socks are excellent insulators)!
The Deer Cutoff mostly escaped the blaze, but the creek above the multi-tiered waterfall was running high and a huge log had crashed down, damming the creek and creating a new pool. I used the log to clamber across as it was blocking the trail anyway. An outlying patch of the fire had burned the slope on the west side of the creek, but soon I was back in mossy woods.
The Sunshine junction looked pristine (I righted the trail sign, whose post had snapped), but not far up the slope I hit the fire zone, here mostly a slow-burning ground fire that had eradicated the understory. There was never much of a bench on the Sunshine, just a scratch of a path through the moss and salal, and with the vegetation gone, the tread was vague or nonexistent. I resorted to picking out Basil Clark badges as I traversed the slope. Things got worse – big trees down, canopy fire, crumbling slopes, loose rocky gullies – and this was even before the Sunshine turns up a steep ridge to meet the Rim Trail. At the pace I was going, and given the time of my start, I knew I wouldn’t make the loop, now essentially a scrambling bushwhack, before darkness. (The fire map has the entire length of the Sunshine, except for the bottom 100 yards or so, in the burn.)
I took the Trapper Creek Trail below the Deer Cutoff on the return, visiting the creek and staring up at the old growth canopy. A large nurse log bridges one of the creeks, and I traipsed across, dodging the baby hemlocks, my traipsing steps skidding on a slick spot and flinging me, at the far end, into a headfirst plunge into the creek, my pack straps tangled around my neck and over my head, my camera dunked in the stream. My hat cushioned the impact of my skull on a (thankfully) flat rock. Reclining in the current, I slowly took stock of the situation, contemplating the possibility of serious injury. Then I clumsily extricated myself and dried off the camera, sloshing the three miles back with a stiff neck, a slowly growing lump on my noggin, and yes, yet another lesson learned (never too old) – log crossings in the wet season are dangerous high wire acts. Resist the urge to traipse! Your feet are probably wet anyway – just wade across the stream (wool socks are excellent insulators)!
